The Beginning
by Meredith A. Jones
Summary: [CINDERELLA MAN] ONESHOT Jimmy Braddock and Joe Gould's first meeting in 1926. Short and sweet. Please Read and Review!


The Beginning  
A Short Historical Account/Ilustration Story by Meredith A. Jones

_A Note From The Author: _I recently bought the book by Jeremy Schaap, _Cinderella Man. _I've seen the movie 6 times so far, and own the DVD. I have many interests, and boxing, and the life of James J. Braddock, is one of them. This'll definitely be a special interest fic, and I'm not expecting any reviews. I just figured I'd post it and see what happens. If you do read this, review, please do! I'd love to see how people liked it! Enjoy, you guys!  
Much Love,  
Meredith

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Joe Jeannette was a black man. Boxing, though, had erased the color of his skin. That was the magic of the sport. Because it was a game, and has always been, for the lower class, it welcomed all colors, blue purple, orange or brown, and all races and religions, be you Polish, Irish, Jewish, or Catholic. The magic of boxing is, and was, that, in the ring, like in law and in the courtroom, everyone is relatively equal. Joe had embraced the sport because of that such magic, and decided to get involved in it. I say that people are _relatively _equal in the ring, because even though blacks were welcomed into the sport, and even into professional sport, often they were turned down for title shots. Joe Jeannette was a victim of such rejection. He fought, nonetheless, and when he got older, opened a small gym.

The gym was much like any other gym you'd find anywhere across the country: old and decrepit, smelly and damp. Boxers have said, however, that that's what they like best, and what they remember most, about boxing. Many boxers have stated that when they walk into a gym to train, the first thing they do, even before they go to the locker rooms, is take a deep breath of the humid, hard work-infected air. Boxers walking in to train at Jeannette's Gym were no different.

For instance, when Joe Gould walked into the gym with one of his prize boxers in 1926, it was, indeed, the absolute first thing he did. Gould was another boxing man, avidly interested in the boxing world like Joe Jeannette. He had fought some, too, as a teenager, but he as well had decided that his energies would be better utilized outside of the ring - even if they were very close to the ring. He had decided to become a manager, and his prize fighter now was a young Jewish welterweight from Brooklyn, Harry Galfund.

Joe Gould was definitely an expert in the game - the game behind the scenes, and the actual sport of boxing. He was fluent in the language of business, a fast talker, and a determined, rock-solid, and mostly successful negotiator. He was different than most, like Joe Jeannette - Gould was Jewish. Religion aside, he was heavily experienced by the age of thirty, and could almost always size up a fighter with one good long look.

Again, I contradict "always" with "almost," because of the day that Joe overlooked a young Jimmy Braddock.

That Wednesday afternoon in Jeannette's, Jimmy, a tall, slender, pale young man caught the eyes of Gould. Joe, eager to make his best man look good, had given the gym a once-over for a sparring partner for his man Galfund.

"Hey, look over there. What about him?" Harry Galfund pointed in the direction of the skinny man, and Gould followed it with a smile.

"He's perfect."

The twenty-one year old Braddock looked fifteen. His arms were bound with muscles of a teenager's, but he was sweating like a man. Or, more like an animal. He looked determined, and Joe actually stood near the "kid" for a few minutes to watch him with mild amusement. Finally, he spoke up.

"Hey."

Jim turned around, surprised, and put his fists down. Joe waited for him to answer, his hands in his pants pockets, but when he realized he wouldn't, jumped straight to the urgent matter of his.

"You want to make five bucks?"

"Sure," said Jim. He reached over to a towel to wipe his eyes with.

"All right. All I want you to do is box, say, three rounds with this fellow over there," Joe nodded with his head towards Galfund, who was doing his own shadowboxing in the ring he and his manager had parked their things. "How's that sound?"

"Sure," was all Jim said, again.

"Good," Joe answered, with a satisfied grin. "Get yourself washed up a little and come on over. Okay?"

"Sure." Jim acted as if Gould had only asked for the time - casual, not too eager. It seemed an every day thing.

"Okay." Gould walked from the flimsy man, to his famous welterweight, and tapped him on the shoulder. Galfund stopped, and turned to his manager.

"What'd he say?"

"Well, here's the deal. I asked him to fight a couple'a rounds with you. He was sweating like a dog, so I told him to wash up before he came over here. We'll see who's working harder. Now, listen, Harry. I want you to knock this bum out as fast as you can, understand?"

"Okay," Galfund said with a confident jab in front of him, and a nod. But, Joe, for all of his savvy and experience, had underestimated Jimmy Braddock, no different than anyone before him. At that moment, potential investors stood around the ring, to watch the now spiffed-up Braddock give Harry a sharp left to the head. Joe began to sweat in his shoes, but he didn't show his nervousness. He clapped his hands encouragingly.

"That's all right, Harry, anyone can get lucky!"

Jim glanced at Joe, almost annoyed with the small man jumping around the outside of the ring.

_That's right. Anyone can get lucky, _Galfund thought. He pounded his gloves together, danced around Jim for a while, then went back in, only to be hit with another of Braddock's lefts - then with a more powerful right.

"That's all right, Harry, that's all right!"

Harry, though, was already ready to give Joe his own angry right hand. He went for Braddock again, but was slowed by a well-aimed left to the jaw. He snuck in an immediately countered right, and Jimmy was in control for the remainder of the round. When the bell rang, the two went to their corners, Jimmy not even sitting, but looking around the gym at the other sparring matches, and Galfund breathing heavily. Joe was worried.

"What are you doing? Are you _trying _to ruin the sale for us? Look'it, these guys are _laughing _at me!" He gestured to the crowd of investors, who were, indeed, looking at Harry and Joe and laughing, pointing and whispering about Braddock instead.

"It's okay, Joe," Harry panted. "I'll knock the bum out right now."

But he didn't knock Jimmy out. The second round was even worse than the first. Every punch of Harry's was returned by an even harder one of Braddock's. The third ended in, what no one doubted, Harry's demise.

"Ah, the champ's feeling a bit under the weather." Joe, now red-cheeked, and sweating more than the fighters, gave his boxer a pat on the back. "We'll exchange a few numbers, sound good? We'll be around again." Joe accepted a surprising $1,200 to the rights to Galfund, (even if it was half the original price - and since he split the money with his fighter, he walked away with a less than a fourth of the original price) traded phone numbers with the investors, and approached the tall young man who was back at the place where he was shadowboxing earlier, cleaning up to leave.

"Hey, you," he said, and extended his hand, which was holding a ten dollar bill.

"I thought you said five," Jim said.

"Take the ten instead of the five." Joe now calculated Jimmy's height and weight, and he took the money gratefully.

"What's your name, kid?"

"Braddock."

Joe tilted his head to the side, seeing that "Braddock" hadn't broken a sweat since he cleaned up. He glanced at Harry, who was now walking out the door, embarrassed, and without a goodbye. Joe almost called out to him that it would be all right, and they'd try next time, but he hadn't said anything to Harry Galfund since the second round, when, at the end of it, he stopped chanting in the ring, and began to watch young Jimmy instead."You know who I am?"

"Yeah," Jimmy said.

"You do?"

"Yeah, you're Joe Gould."

"That's right," said Joe. "You got a manager?"

"My brother, Joe."

"Oh, that's right, Joe Braddock the welterweight." Joe smirked. He'd seen Joe Braddock fight many a time. He knew the kid had a brother, and he knew his brother was a boxer like him, and all he hoped was to meet that brother to see if he was better than Joe. "Any time I can see him?"

"Well, yeah, he's a plumber, so he works during the week."

"Weekends...?"

"He'll be here on Saturday."

"You know for sure, kid?"

"Yeah, I know for sure. He comes Saturday to train."

"Good, then. Good," Joe said. He smiled to himself. "Tell him I'll be here at noon to see him."

Jim shifted, fiddling with the tape on his hands. "Mr. Gould, pardon if I ask, but - what do you want to see my brother for?"

"I want to talk about your future, Jimmy."

"_My _future?"

"That's right. And, kid, I'm Joe to you now."

"Okay. Well, I ain't a kid, Joe. I'm twenty-one years old. Let's say I'm Jim to you?"

Joe raised his eyebrows. "Yeah, sure, Jim." He smiled again, and rattled the change in his pocket, then stopped when he looked back at Jimmy. "Well, Jim - Jimmy, I'll see you 'round, 'k?"

"Yeah, see you 'round."

"I'm glad we had this conversation."

"Yeah, me too." Joe turned and walked away, and Jim watched him until he left the gym. "Me too..."

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Hope you liked it. I enjoyed writing it. For those that are reading this, review? Please? Thanky! I'm glad we had this conversation.


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